


Carnevale

by Espereth



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Community: asscreedkinkmeme, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:26:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Espereth/pseuds/Espereth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Ezio and his Brotherhood weaken Borgia control over Roma, the citizens celebrate with a Carnevale. Ezio meets Lucrezia in the crowd. Porn ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carnevale

_La Volpe Addormentata_ thrummed with the cheerful heat of a crowd that was drunk, but not too drunk. Ezio sat talking with La Volpe over bread and wine, amidst the familiar smells - not pleasant, exactly, but safe - of people and drink and wood smoke. 

"Carnevale? In Roma?" Ezio said, raising an eyebrow.

La Volpe shrugged over his mug of wine and slid across the table a sheet of paper, decorated with a painted picture of a colourful mask. "So it seems, Ezio. But this Carnevale is no simple celebration." He pointed at the paper. "Did you notice the venue?"

"The Piazza Navona." The location was near the river, not far from the Mausoleo - and in recent days, it had been the site of several inflammatory plays about the Pope.

" _Si_. To hold it there is no accident." Volpe unfolded another sheet of paper - this one plain, with a few lines scribbled across it in a crude, uneven hand. "My men took this from the statue in the Piazza." The thief grinned as Ezio read the paper. "Cesare has been very busy, according to this esteemed man of literature," said Volpe, smirking. "Such stamina. God Himself only knows how our friend found the time and inspiration to lavish so much attention on his livestock. His poor sister must be feeling neglected."

Ezio finished reading the dirty little rhyme and laughed. "Very good, Volpe. But we would be mistaken to rely on this as evidence of the mood of the people."

"There are more of these papers, Ezio," Volpe said, leaning across the table, his voice intense. "My spies find them every day. Surely you have noticed that the tide is turning - that your work is paying off. Roma awakens. She shakes off Cesare’s yoke - and this Carnevale is the proof of it. It is as good as blatant opposition."

"If you say so." Ezio shrugged - but he hoped the old fox was right. He decided that he would attend the gathering - masked, but he would be recognizable to some. When word reached Cesare that he had been in attendance, the man would be furious - he might even be goaded to make an error. Ezio would be sure to use this opportunity to its full, perhaps even send his men to assault another Borgia tower during the celebration. He smiled to himself, thinking of the younger man’s rage as the Assassini claimed the life of yet another of his captains. 

"I do say so." Volpe clapped his shoulder. "And for once, Niccolò agrees with me. All the better is that Cesare entirely lacks the means to suppress this celebration."

"I am not so sure." Ezio drained his mug and spun it thoughtfully on the table. "We weaken his influence over Roma, certainly - but a beast is most dangerous when it is wounded. I will send scouts and archers to watch over this Carnevale, in case he plans to attack it." He shuddered inwardly, imagining Cesare's thugs let loose at a celebration of unprepared, unarmed citizens. A massacre.

"A wise plan. Now, listen." Volpe tapped the brightly-coloured poster again. "The noble guests will be masked; not everyone wishes to be open in their opposition to the Borgia. I must speak with Claudia. Between us, our spies will determine who attends and who does not - masks or no."

Ezio nodded. " _Si_. And we will need her girls and your thieves all over the city. The conversations in the taverns will be just as important to overhear as those at the Piazza..."

They talked long into the night.

***

"These rabble spit in our faces, and you want to encourage them," Cesare mocked. He crumpled the bright poster in his hand and tossed it at his father, clipping Rodrigo's left ear. 

Silent, Lucrezia Borgia watched her brother pacing and fuming in the Papal apartments at the Castel Sant'Angelo. Still dressed in his armor, sword at his side, he had conducted a raiding party in the Campagna that afternoon. There was a smear of blood on his left cheek. Not his own. Cesare was a fine swordsman; a fine man. But he had given no news of the raid, and Lucrezia suspected that he had failed to reclaim the tower that had belonged to his latest fallen Captain, Francesco da Velletri.

Rodrigo Borgia ignored the thrown paper and tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Ridiculous," he said. "As usual, Cesare, you have thought nothing through."

"No, Father - you are the one who does not think.” Cesare spun on his heel and kept pacing. “ _Who do you think is behind this?_ ”

Lucrezia stared at him. For all that she was lonely here, the cold magnificence of this place suited Cesare. He was tall and vital under its high ornate ceilings, against its backdrop of frescoes and tapestries.

“The Assassino manipulates the citizens, raises them against us,” her brother continued. “Allowing this insolence to proceed merely strengthens the hold of his order over the people. You might be an old fool, resigned to being mocked in your dotage as your power slips away - but _I am not_." 

It was not all bad, when Cesare was angry - which, these days, was most of the time. He grew more volatile with each of Ezio’s victories. Lucrezia loved to watch her brother move. When he paced, she could see the waiting strength in his broad shoulders and taut arms, the barely-contained power of his rage. It aroused her, made her think of his hot scarred skin, of coarse hair and hard muscle against her breasts and belly, of her legs around his waist. She longed for him, but on days like these, he seemed to look through her as though she were invisible. Ezio Auditore commanded as much of his attention as a lover.

Lucrezia, too, thought of the Assassin with anger. As he chipped away at her family’s control over Roma, peasants and nobles alike mocked her name. Because of him, her very presence in her birthplace was tenuous. At every opportunity, he sought to prove that he could go anywhere he wanted – he had even broken into her home, disturbed her in her own courtyard. Still, she shivered remembering his hands on her – and Cesare's face when she had told him. 

"Did you consider that attacking the gathering might provoke a riot, Cesare?" Rodrigo was saying. "What would you do then?"

"What the scum deserve," Cesare said. "What they ask for." He did look at Lucrezia, then, just for a moment; and she thrilled with desire at his smirking dark eyes and the cruel twist of his mouth. 

“Ezio will be there,” she said suddenly, and Cesare stopped his pacing to stare at her, a dangerous expression on his face. He hated it when she said the Assassin’s name. “He mocks you, Cesare. He will not be able to resist making his presence known.” 

Rodrigo smiled. “For once, your sister speaks sense, Cesare,” he said. “Why bother to attack the Carnevale? Send your men. But tell them to seek one man only.”

Lucrezia watched her brother's face as he thought. Cesare hated being corrected, still less told what to do. But then he smiled. Even he had to admit that the plan was perfect.

***

The night of Carnevale was warm, and the whole of Roma seemed alive. Excited citizens thronged the streets. The Brothers Ezio sent to scout the city reported that even the Borgia-controlled areas bordering the Centro district were bright with streamers and decorated lanterns.

Ezio wore a silver mask painted to suggest the features of an eagle. Francesco Vecellio had made it for him. He would be recognized by some - all the better. He would be able to gauge the reactions of the people to his presence.

At sunset, he travelled to the Piazza Navona by rooftop. For once, his path was unobstructed. The few archers that still patrolled seemed reluctant to challenge him, with so many citizens about.

Ezio moved through the crowd, past musicians and jugglers, courtesans and sweet-sellers. Enterprising boys called out selling ribbons to commemorate the day. The air smelled of wine and roasted chestnuts. He listened to snatches of conversation as he passed.

_“The Assassino is here.”_

_“Oh? Where is he then?”_

_“He’s masked, like everyone else - how should I know?”_

Families great and modest were in attendance. Most people who could afford it wore masks, but some of them – like Ezio's – hardly concealed their wearers' identities. All would be noted by the watching spies of three factions.

Ezio spotted several of his Brothers in the crowd, their faces alive with pleasure under their painted masks. He had sent them among the people, to gather information – a coveted task as it afforded them a rare opportunity to dance and make merry. There was Ciro, whirling a pretty girl in a circle; there was Bastiano watching. Ezio smiled. Tomorrow, he would be sure to work them doubly hard as those who had missed out on the fun. He kept moving, past groups of citizens talking.

_“I hear that the Assassino intends to murder Cesare Borgia tonight.”_

_“Hah - did your uncle tell you that? He’s drunk too much, even for Carnevale!”_

_“But - if not tonight, then when? When will he strike? I am tired of waiting!”_

_“If you’re tired of waiting, why don’t you pick up a sword and fight? Ah, if I were your age, I would join him in an instant.”_

There were children about. A gang of small boys, sensing something different about Ezio, dared each other to get close to him. Each boy took it in turns to tug on Ezio’s cape before dancing back in fright as though he were a bear. Then a little girl put them all to shame, taking his hand completely unafraid; Ezio crouched, smiling, while she tucked a wildflower in his hair. 

He passed courtesans he knew - some of them spies from the _Rosa in Fiore_ , who took great delight in propositioning Ezio the same as they would any other passing man. 

Later in the evening his gaze was drawn to a woman standing apart from the other courtesans. Beneath the gold mask that covered her eyes and cheeks, her lips were dark and bold. She wore a courtesan's dress, the neckline low and baring her pale shoulders, with the front of her skirts short to show the shape of her legs and a hint of lace underskirts. But he sensed that she was not one of them. Courtesans scoped the crowd, winking and flirting; this woman stood aloof, observing.

She was slender - too slender for his tastes, ordinarily, but she carried herself with a haughty grace that intrigued him. Her fair hair draped in a long braid that hung over one shoulder, rather than sitting coiled atop her head in the style of most courtesans. Young, too; and the way she stared in fascination at the bright, happy chaos of Carnevale enhanced it.

Ezio knew only one woman with these strange, contradictory qualities. 

She was childlike and naive, but sexually knowing; she was cold and superior, but desperately insecure. She was Lucrezia Borgia.

***

He weaved through the crowd, shifting from this group to that, until he was close enough to speak with her. She looked at him, and he saw that she had recognised him.

"You little fool," he said. Muffled slightly behind his silver mask, his own voice sounded strange in his head. “What possessed you to do this?" He looked her up and down. To see a woman in Roma, dressed this way, was nothing special – but this was the Pope's daughter! Ezio did not submit to Papal doctrine, but even he was scandalized. He found himself getting hard, looking at her this way, and was reminded of how he had restrained her in the Castello, how her body had felt as she strugged and fought. “Who is with you, and where has he gone?”

"My guards are with me." She lifted her chin. Her mask concealed her expression, but not her eyes; and the combination he saw in them, attraction and hatred as one, was thrilling. "Lay a hand on me if you dare, _Assassino_ ,” Lucrezia told him. “They are watching."

He laughed at her obvious lie. Then, seizing her by her elbow, he drew her into a side street and pushed her into a shadowed corner. Fortunately for both of them, she did not scream. 

"Do you know how dangerous it is for you here?" He demanded, shaking her a little. She struggled to free her arm. Not wanting her to making any more noise than necessary, he let go; but he was ready to grab her again if she tried to run.

"Why, _Assassino?_ What do you intend to do to me?"

"It is not me that you need to fear, Lucrezia," he said, his voice a low growl. "If these people recognise you, I do not know what would happen. Resentment for your family runs high."

"Thanks to you," she said, glaring at him.

"Thanks to Cesare," he corrected - but there was no sense arguing that point with Lucrezia. "You came here alone," he said. That meant nobody knew she was here. That Cesare did not know she was here. “What will your brother do when he discovers that you are missing?”

“He won’t.” Lucrezia shrugged. “Cesare neither notices nor cares where I go.”

“I am sure that is untrue,” Ezio said, and then caught himself. What was he doing, attempting to comfort this viper of a woman? He reminded himself not to underestimate her. It was likely she intended to stick a knife in him.

"I do not know what disturbs me more, Lucrezia," he said, dropping his voice to a low murmur. He ran two fingers over one bare shoulder, then traced the hollow at the base of her throat. She swallowed, shivering at the light touch. He let his fingers drop to the low neckline of her dress, and thumbed the clinging folds of fabric, setting his other hand lightly on her waist. "The thought that you know how this dress makes you look - or the thought that you do not."

"I wear this dress for the same reason we wear our masks,” she said. “To become anonymous. I am no courtesan. That is your sister's trade, not mine."

Ezio had beaten men bloody for remarks less offensive than that. She was trying to provoke him. He merely inclined his head, immaculately polite, but he knew from the way she caught her breath that his eyes conveyed his anger.

Anything he could have said in response to her was cut off, as from behind him to the south came the sound of gunpowder igniting and brickwork exploding. Lucrezia gasped and stared, her hands clutching unconsciously at his robes. Ezio turned to watch, smiling grimly as a column of smoke against an orange glow of fire surged into the night. His men had been successful. Pietro da Siena was dead - and his tower belonged to the Assassins. A great cheer erupted from the Piazza at the now familiar sights and sounds of a Borgia tower burning. Someone set off fireworks, and streaks of light arced into the sky.

Ezio looked back at Lucrezia, ready to endure her hatred. Sure enough her eyes spat fire at him, but her lips were parted in arousal, and she was breathing hard.

“Bastardo. I have thought about you since you broke into the Castello,” she whispered. “About your hands on me in the hallway.” She laughed, the sound breathy and thin. Brittle. “I told Cesare that you had touched me, just to see the look upon his face. He was livid. He talks about you all the time, but never says your name.” 

With the tower burning behind him, the people cheering in the square, and Cesare’s sister shivering at his touch - Ezio decided that he liked Carnevale. He smiled and on a whim, wondered whether Lucrezia would permit him to claim a kiss. Tilting his head so that their masks would not clash he covered her mouth with his and cupped her head, resting the back of his hand against the wall as he pressed her against it. She gasped and opened her mouth for him as he slid his tongue between her lips. The smell of smoke reached the Piazza Navona while he kissed her, slow and thorough, his cock hardening at the soft sounds she made in her throat – pleasure and protest as one. 

He broke away, a smirk across his lips, expecting to be slapped for his efforts. A fair price to pay, and well worth it. But when Lucrezia reached for his face, it was only to tear away his mask. 

“Again,” she demanded. 

Ezio was glad to oblige, even as a nagging thought in the back of his mind told him he must be mad. He gently took her own mask away, revealing fair skin and fine features. He trailed his lips over the clean lines of her cheekbone and jaw, then kissed her neck, biting softly with his lips and the gentlest graze of his teeth. She shivered and gasped. Her hands roamed his arms and back, sliding under his clothing in search of skin, feeling his arms and exploring the lines of the muscles in his back. 

His lips reached the delicious shadow where her collarbones met. He kissed the hollow there, feeling hot skin and tasting salt. He dragged his mouth over her bare shoulders, savouring the contrast of her smooth skin against the rough trimmed hair on his face. 

He wanted desperately to leave a mark for Cesare to see, but he sensed that to do so might endanger her. His mouth travelled down the pale expanse of her chest and he restrained himself to gentle sucking and soft, delicate bites, nothing that would bruise her fair skin.

It only took a slight, sharp tug to draw down the low neckline of her dress and tuck it beneath her breasts. Soft and high, they bounced free. Her nipples were hard. She cried out with surprise and he covered her mouth with his.

"Shh, Lucrezia," he murmured against her lips, and kissed her. He pinched a nipple, teased it. She moaned, took his hand and pushed it beneath her skirts. 

He felt between her thighs. His fingers touched the short lacy folds of her underskirts and found them moist. He parted the lace and felt curled hair, then crept his fingers to brush her swelling lips. Lucrezia was so slick with arousal that he moaned from delight and amazement, unable to resist a bite to the soft skin below her ear. 

She squirmed at the gentle nip of his teeth and tried to push his fingers inside her. Ezio teased instead, tracing the lips of her pussy while flicking his tongue against her ear, making her shiver with sensation. She was so wet, his fingers were coated in moments without even parting her soft lips.

"That time, in the Castello," she whispered, "with your blade at my throat - this is what you did to me, Ezio. I was wet all evening."

He had been sure she was aroused, when he had seized her in the courtyard, and it thrilled him to hear it confirmed.

"I knew. Don't scream, Lucrezia," he warned.

Staring into her eyes, he felt for her hard little pearl with wet fingertips, and a shudder ran through her body. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out and thrust herself back against the wall, eyes shut tight. Her lips parted in a hiss of breath, her body tensing and shaking so hard that he was afraid he had brought her to release. 

But then Lucrezia opened heavy-lidded eyes, staring at him with raw desire - and he knew it was all right.

She nearly tore his clothing pulling his knife belt off and thrusting his cape and robes aside. He grabbed her wrists with one hand, laughing, and kissed her cheekbone with something approaching affection as he pulled his breeches open and took his cock in his hand. 

He let go of her wrists and she cupped his cock in the palm of her hand, tracing its length with soft fine fingers. She looked at it, then back at his face, her eyes wide; he could not help smiling at that. He braced his hands on the wall on either side of her head and shut his eyes, letting her touch him, thinking to give her time to get used to him. But Lucrezia pulled him closer, impatient.

"Please," she whispered.

Ezio saw no need to hurry. Anyone who happened to notice them in the shadows like this would be amused at best, scandalized at worst; but not surprised. Just another bored man, paying a courtesan for her services. Similar couplings were probably going on in many of the darkened alleyways of Roma tonight. 

He would not be rushed. To show her, he kissed her slowly, his tongue lingering on her lips, then twisting against hers. She pushed her tongue inside his mouth, and he groaned and thrust his cock against her bared thigh, the head smearing moisture on her skin. 

She felt it and shifted her hips, thrusting herself towards his cock.

"Please, Ezio -"

With gentle fingers, he parted her lips and slid his cock between them, not penetrating, just rubbing his length against satiny-wet folds. She arched her back, her need showing in every line of her body.

He bit her lower lip with gentle teeth as he kept kissing her. He teased her pussy with his fingertips, caressing and circling, but never penetrating, until Lucrezia was moaning and shaking, almost out of her mind with desire. 

Ezio was sure that she exaggerated the desparation in her responses, to urge him to do it faster; and for a moment he wondered what it would be like to take her at his leisure, in bed, rather than in a dark street. He could draw out her torment as long as he pleased. He suspected that most men, confronted with a woman as impatient for release as Lucrezia, would lack the control to do what she needed - to be tied securely to a bed, and teased for hours.

The thought stayed with him as Lucrezia writhed against him, and as he bent to suck a nipple with her other breast cupped in his hand. Then when he was ready he took his cock in his hand and dabbed the head to smear her entrance with her own slick juice. 

He covered her mouth with a hand. " _Silenzio, si?_ "

She nodded, desperation in her blue eyes.

He pushed firmly, felt her ease open around him, and continued his long, slow thrust until he filled her. He heard her muffled cries from beneath the palm of his hand, and felt hair against hair as their bodies pressed snug against each other. 

Moving inside her was exquisite. Slick heat, her bare breasts against him, his hand under her skirts, on her ass, pulling her to him. As she moaned with each firm stroke, he thanked the control he had developed through experience and the passing of years. Lovemaking could be quick, but it ought never to be hasty. 

Every woman was different, and Ezio suspected that Lucrezia would climax more easily than some. He kept his rhythm slow, moving his hips as carefully as if she were a virgin. The longer he denied her, the fuller would be her release, when he finally allowed it. 

A trickle of hot moisture spilled down his cock as Lucrezia shuddered, and Ezio knew her release was not far off. He stopped caring how much noise they made, and took his hand from her mouth to grasp both of her hips. Rubbing his cock against her pearl, he rocked his hips to hit the spot inside her as he thrust, harder and faster, near the edge himself. 

Lucrezia screamed, when she came, but his own pleasure was like fire inside him, so that he didn't care. 

"Ezio - Ezio - Ezio -" She gasped his name, clutching him as she shuddered and rocked against him, and he began to spurt inside her with a soft cry of his own.

In the intensity of his own climax, thrusting his body against hers over and over, he heard himself mumbling into her neck as tenderly as if she weren't his enemy. As if she didn't despise him. Driving his cock inside her, deep and hard, claiming her, with her crying out against his throat - he could almost imagine that she wasn't doing this just to spite her brother. That _he_ wasn't doing it just to mock him.

They finished together, and he fell against her with his face in the crook of her neck, kissing her. He was still deep inside her, and seed ran over his cock and down between Lucrezia's thighs. She slumped in his arms, clutching him and shaking. Ezio stroked her hair as she recovered. Even as he did so he suspected that he had only short moments before she hated him again.

Sure enough she stirred, and her body tensed. Sensing this, Ezio withdrew, the slick noise sounding louder in the night air than it should have. Carnevale still hummed in the background, although quieter now.

"Here, Lucrezia," he said quietly, and wrapped his cape around her, covering the expanse of skin over her bosom and concealing her thighs from view. "It is late. You must return to the Castello."

"Then let me," she snapped, drawing the cape around her shoulders. She would not look at him. 

"Not alone. I'll walk with you."

She tolerated his arm around her shoulders as they threaded back through the masked revellers of Carnevale. 

It wasn't far to the bridge. Ezio kept her close as he negotiated a path across the Ponte Sant'Angelo; there were enough people around that, strolling casually, it was easy enough not to draw attention from the guards posted along the bridge.

On the opposite shore, however, was another matter - and there Ezio stopped. He had no wish to end such a pleasant evening being cut to ribbons by the Papal Guard.

"You won't come in, then?" Lucrezia said with a smirk. 

He smiled. "Promise me that you will get rid of this, Lucrezia," he said, running a thumb over his cape where it sat about her shoulders. "Before Cesare sees it."

"Of course," she said. But they both knew that she had no intention of disposing of Ezio's cape.

**Author's Note:**

> For the KinkMeme: http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/856.html?thread=5358680#cmt5358680


End file.
